


Low Budget Romance

by wertdifferenz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cooking Lessons, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24860149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wertdifferenz/pseuds/wertdifferenz
Summary: Meal prep is something that never crossed Keith‘s mind, mainly because he wouldn‘t know where to start or what to do. Thankfully, Lance, the master of mealprep, is willing to teach him a few lessons.And how could Keith not realize his own feelings while getting some nice, homemade food?If just confessing was that easy.
Relationships: Adam/Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

With about a thousand students, eleven of them at this table alone, it‘s ought to be loud in his college‘s big mensa hall. 

Keith feels that ‚loud‘ is still an understatement though. 

He can barely hear his own thoughts, even less his neighbor Hunk as he speaks with their friends Ina and Ryan about a project they need to finish for their physics class, or how Shiro uses the worst pick up lines on his boyfriend only to gain one eye roll after the other. 

All he can hear is the murmur of too many people under the same roof and— 

And Lance‘s loud voice teasing him about his newest observation: Keith‘s eating habits.

“All this instant food is going to kill you one day,” he complains while munching on a wrap. It looks like one of those dishes you post on a your social media to make other people feel bad about their eating habits. 

It works. Keith instantly feels bad about his eating habits. He pokes into the bowl of instant ramen he got from the cheapest supermarket on the campus. It‘s not really tasty with blobs of grease swimming on top of noodles as thin as thread, and the cheap plastic spork almost melting from the heat— but it‘s enough to keep him full until his classes are over. 

And that‘s all he needs from this soup, and food in general. 

“Shut up,” he murmurs when Lance starts hitting Keith‘s shin with his foot under the table. He points his crooked spork at Lance‘s wrap and frowns at him. “Not everyone has the budget to buy fancy cafeteria food every day.” 

Everything in this sentence is totally wrong— like how the cafeteria food is fancy, or that Lance can afford it, or even that this beautiful wrap in his hands is from this cafeteria— he knows better, but he ignores it. 

Lance takes another bite and hums in delight, just to spite him. “No,” he answers with a full mouth, “but you could at least try to be a bit more healthy.”

Keith scoffs at him. “Did you not hear that I don’t have-”

“The money for it?” Lance interrupts. “That’s bullshit.” He rolls his eyes, finishes his wrap and closes the tupperware box he brought with him to stow it back in his messenger bag. “We have the same job, the same hours, and I still manage to eat healthy.” 

Before Keith can respond, his stupid brother chimes in from his side. “He‘s right, you know?” Shiro grins when Keith redirects his frown at him, nudging his shoulder to provoke him even more. 

“Shut up,” Keith repeats. If people would only listen for once. 

And they do. Shiro is still grinning ear to ear, but he goes back to bother Adam with his stupid lines instead. Keith is sure he stole them from Lance. 

And Lance— he looks like he‘s listening to Hunk now, who‘s still talking to Ina and Ryan about the project. At least they moved from the physics problem to the actual planning on where to meet. 

With a nod from all three of them, the conversation seems to be finished. Ryan turns to Lance to ask him something, the question getting drowned out by the noise in the mensa and Keith‘s own thoughts. 

Lance is right about a couple of things. They have the same job at a fast food store, have the same hours because they applied at the same time, have the same budget because they both don‘t get money from their parents— and yet Lance eats like a king and Keith like the heathen Lance insults him as all the time. 

It‘s a riddle he desperately needs to solve. 

Like, right now. 

Keith kicks Lance in the shin until he gets his attention, waits until Lance wraps up his talk with Ryan and finally look at him. “How?” he asks, still frowning, still in a bad mood, but actually curious right now. 

Lance tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. “How what?”

“How can you afford all that healthy stuff and I can’t when we have the same budget.”

“Oh.” The second eyebrow joins the first as he looks at Keith in surprise. Just like Keith, he probably never expected this question. “I meal prep,” Lance answers nevertheless, actually being helpful for once. “My siblings taught me how to cook healthy stuff with a low budget.”

Ah, if Keith only could have a sibling like that. He rams his elbow into Shiro‘s side, knowing fully well that he has been listening the whole time. “Why can’t you be helpful like that?”

“Because Adam cooks for us.” He looks so smug as if this is something to be proud of, as if no one knows the reason why his incompetent ass gets his food served by one of his boyfriends three times a day. 

“Oh, right,” Keith quips, “You’re not allowed in kitchens anymore.” 

“You know,” Shiro quips right back, “Lance should teach you how to survive on your own.” 

That bastard. 

Keith shoots Lance a look, who‘s staring at him with concern clear in his face. They speak up at the same time. 

“I don’t need-”

“I don’t think-”

“Great,” Shiro interrupts, clapping his hands together, “it‘s settled then.” And just because he‘s an ass and loves to annoy Keith, he gets up, stands on a stool and waves his hands until he gets the attention of the students around them. “Lance here” he points at him, then at Keith, “is teaching my little brother how to cook!”

Literally no one cares. 

As soon as he‘s finished, the people get back to their own conversations, ignoring the most boring news that they probably ever heard. 

Adam has managed to get away from his boyfriend as discreet as possible, waiting for that idiot to finish up his role as a embarrassing big brother. “Thank you,” he grins towards Lance, “for teaching my baby-brother how to be a functional human being.”

“Speak for yourself!” Keith hisses, ignoring the heat in his cheeks from that stupid announcement, just like he‘s ignoring how Lance looks like he wants to curl up and die. Ryan pats his shoulder encouragingly, chuckling lowly at the two of them before getting back to his talk with Ina. 

And Keith? He just finishes his his grease-soup and packs up for his next class. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rice debate comes from an actual interaction with a friend...

Keith didn‘t think that they would actually do this, but thanks to Shiro bugging them into actually doing this, Lance and him are actually doing it. 

Cooking, he means. 

But before that, they have to go grocery shopping.

It‘s one of Keith‘s most hated activities. He hates making grocery lists, he hates sticking to said lists, he hates going from aisle to aisle, looking at all the stuff he can‘t afford and having to crouch down to the bottom shelves to get the cheapest off-brand noodles, bread and spread that won‘t satisfy his soul, but at least his stomach to let him live through another day. 

It‘s needless to say that he‘s been in a bad mood ever since they arranged this ‚shopping date‘. Lance gracefully ignores him though. He picked him up half an hour ago to walk to the store and has been talking since, going on and on about recipes, nutrition, tips and tricks— not even stopping when they finally reached the store. 

“Rice, for example,” he murmurs, “is always a good starting point.” 

He holds up an overpriced bag of rice, just like he held up an overpriced bag of noodles, a way too expensive piece of meat, a pack of organic potatoes and literally everything else in this store neither of them can afford before putting it right back and opting for a cheaper version. 

“It’s filling,” he continues, “cheap, and easy to cook.” He turns to face Keith. “I’m sure you can think of a few things to eat with rice.”

Is that a trick-question? 

“No,” Keith answers honestly, regretting it right away as Lance‘s eyebrows suddenly drop down. 

“Dude,” he deadpans, “you’re asian.”

So what? Does that mean he has to be an expert in rice? 

“You’re racist,” Keith counters, crossing his arms over his chest and preparing for their next fight. 

Lance is already taking a deep breath, puffing his chest up, mirroring Keith‘s stance, his arms over his chest leaning forward and— “You— you—” 

_ You? _ Keith tilts his head. Could it be?

“Just—”

_ Speechless _ . A once in a lifetime occurrence when it comes to Lance, and something Keith proudly managed to achieve all on his own. 

“Here,” Lance huffs, taking a carton in his hand and holding it too close too Keith’s face. “Eggs. You can make fried rice with that.” 

Well, that‘s true, but— “Fried rice is not something you eat with rice.”

_ “What?” _

Keith points at the carton of eggs in Lance‘s hand and repeats himself. “Fried rice is a whole new dish—” Lance stares at him, eyes wide, mouth pressed into a line, looking as if he‘s ready to kill Keith right on the spot. 

And Keith just continues. “It’s not something you eat with rice.”

“It—” Lance takes a deep breath. “It contains rice.”

“Yes,” Keith nods. Lance is not wrong, but still...“It’s not a side dish you eat with rice though.”

Lance looks so done with him. So utterly and wholeheartedly done with him. Keith shouldn‘t feel so damn proud. Just like his feelings he can‘t hide his winning grin, which sets Lance into a splutter. 

“I-” He takes another deep breath. “You-” Places the eggs back into the shelf while rubbing his eyes. He‘s silent for a couple more minutes, collecting cheap ingredients while Keith strolls the cart along. 

Gosh, he‘s never heard Lance be so quiet for so long. 

But all great times come to an end when Lance picks up his lesson again. “Okay,” he sighs. “Let’s move on to what you could combine rice with. Vegetables, for example.” 

A pointed look makes Keith shut up before he can even think of getting back to the fried rice argument. He opts to listen instead, the grin still plastered on his face. 

“You can get some frozen peas, some carrot, some onion, and some eggs and make fried rice,” he explains, pointing to half of the stuff that‘s already in their shopping cart. “Or you could boil some broccoli and eggs, add some seasoning and have that as a side dish for rice. Both options are cheap, nutritious and filling.” 

That sounds pretty nice. Really fucking nice to be honest, not just the cheap, nutritious and filling part, but the part where Keith gets to eat some delicious, hot food without having to starve for the rest of the week. With the microwaves that are scattered all over the campus, he‘d even be able to heat up whatever Lance comes up with, but—

But how is he supposed to prepare all that in the first place. A microwave doesn‘t replace a stove, which is probably needed to cook in the first place. 

“Okay,” Keith interrupts Lance as he rambles on and on about how to use brokkoli, not even noticing that Keith hasn‘t been listening to him, “there is just one problem.” “I don’t have a kitchen.”

Lance looks at him as if he just exclaimed that the mothman is real. He is, but from experience Keith knows that Lance doesn‘t believe him. 

“We have kitchens in the dorm building,” he explains slowly, keeping his eyes on Keith as if he was waiting for him to explain that it was just a joke. It doesn‘t happen, so he continues even slower, “You  _ do _ know that we have kitchens in the dorm, right?”

“Well,” Keith shrugs, “now I do.” 

Big mistake. 

“Keith!” The loud screeching of Lance‘s voice rings in Keith‘s ears, but he has no time to recover as Lance grabs his shoulder and shakes him like a tree in one of his stupid games. “They are on every fucking floor!” he hisses. “How are you not dead yet?” 

He stops his shaking just in time for Keith‘s mood to drop again. It‘s a miracle they haven‘t been gained a crowd around them yet, though Keith is sure that just a few more aisles, a few more arguments and they‘ll get kicked out of here. 

“Wait.” Lance lets go of his shoulders, causing Keith to stumble back a few steps and steady himself against one of the shelves. His hand hit a package of brownies, making his fingers twitch and his body crave them immediately.

“What?” he murmurs, pulling his hand from the sinful treat and facing Lance. 

Again, big mistake. He‘s back to re-thinking his life choices. “Do you—” he sighs. “Do you even know how to cook?” 

“Uhm…” He honestly thought that they established that already.

Lance sinks onto the floor, crouching with his head in his head. “Oh my god,” he groans quietly, “I thought you just need some recipes or ideas, not a whole ass crash-course in basic life-skills.” He takes another deep, shaking breath before getting up, taking the cart in one hand and Keith‘s arm in his other and dragging him along. “This is going to take a while.”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

One night and a long ass morning shift later, Keith finds himself in the little kitchen that‘s hidden at end of Lance‘s floor. He checked his own floor the night before, realizing that just like Lance claimed, those kitchens exists. 

Lance‘s one is a little bit more worn out than the one on Keith‘s floor, probably because Lance is here two times a week, cooking away with the same huge smile that‘s plastered on his lips right now. Could also be because Lance also has a common room on this floor which is almost always filled with people—

And food. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never been in here,” Lance says while getting a couple of pans and pots out on the little stove. “You pass this room whenever you come to my place.”

Which is true. Lance‘s room is two doors away further down the hallway, so there is really no explanation for Keith to never have noticed it. There isn‘t even a door that could hide the room. Keith has just been blind to the possibilities. He doesn‘t have to admit that though. 

“You got lost in our single-hallway biology building,” he counters, because that happened. Lance calling him frantically when he couldn‘t find the classroom they were supposed to meet at. “Literally one hallway, and you got lost.”

Lance ignores him. “Okay, let’s get to the cooking.” Every student has a little fridge in their room, which they stowed their groceries in. Lance heaves his bag on the kitchen counter before grabbing a second one and showing Keith the content. “Since you don’t have any containers to store your food in-”

“How did you know that?” Keith interrupts, gaining a half-heartedly laugh. 

“I guessed.” Lance shakes his head with a huff,his eyes telling Keith to not intterupt him again. “I brought some of mine and Hunk’s spare ones you can use.” He takes a couple of boxes in different sizes, half of them in blue, the ohters in yellow and puts them on the big table at the other side of the ktichen. “They are mismatched, but you need to deal with that.”

“I don’t really care in what my food is stowed in.”

Lance sighs, his voice now heavy with exasperation. “And that’s exactly why it took us so long to be friends. Anyway,” he clasps his hands together, his attention back on the groceries they bought, “we’re going to do rice with broccoli and eggs for lunch or dinner and some veggie wraps as well. First we need to cut up the veggies and cook the rice.” He holds up the big, cheap bag of rice that could feed a family for a week and turns towards Keith. “Do you-”

He snatches the bag with a frown. “I know how to cook fucking rice.” He might not have had the best childhood, and only got adopted when he was a teenager, but at least his new mom made him help prepare the rice for dinner every now and then. That‘s how he knows how to use a—

Wait. His eyes move over the counters, and when he doesn‘t find what he‘s looking for he starts searching the cabinets with the bag of rice still in his arms.

Lance watches him for a while before he finally speaks up. “What are you doing?”

“There is no rice cooker.” 

“Yeah,” Lance digs through the cabinets until he emerges with a pot and pushes it into Keith’s free hand, “you need to cook with this.”

Ah. 

Well, shit.

He sighs and presses the pot against Lance‘s chest instead. 

He seems to know what Keith wants to say. “Okay.” He places the pot on the counter and takes the bag of rice and a measuring cup. “You take four cups of rice and wash it a couple of times. Half a cup of rice is about one portion, so eight portions for the two of us.” 

He hands Keith a strainer, parks him in front of the sink and measures the rice before turning the water on. The one thing his adoptive mom taught him at home was washing rice, so he does as he‘s told. 

A few minutes later and Keith is allowed to place the rice into the pot, the strainer quickly replaced by the glass Lance was just holding.

“Now you mix the rice with eight cups of water.” He waits for Keith to finish this as well before continuing. “The pot goes on the stove. Let the water come to a boil, then turn it to middle heat and let it simmer for until the water is gone. Simple as that.”

Simple as that…

“Okay,” Keith nods, trying to remember what he just did before new information comes along, “what’s next?”

“Broccoli,” Lance nods. He takes a cutting board and a sharp knife from a shelf and places it on the worktop. “You need to cut it into small pieces, the stem as well.” As Keith goes to work, Lance keeps on explaining. “We can either cook it in a pot or in the microwave.” 

“In the microwave?” Keith asks, even more confused as before. He only ever heated up stuff with the microwave, never actually cooked anything in it… besides a mug cake, but that doesn‘t really count...

Lance looks at him, probably trying to figure out if Keith is able to use a microwave by himself. “Yeah. You put it in a bowl with a few tablespoons of water and cook it for three or four minutes.” 

“Huh.” 

Well, that‘s certainly one creative way to use the microwave. Keith never even guessed you could do that. Wouldn't even have thought about looking up what you could actually do with a microwave, other than heating up some water for instant coffee or to make some popcorn for a movie night.

The mug cake alone was a once-in-a-lifetime cooking experience.

Watching how Lance is already taking out a bunch of herbs, sauces and spices makes him realize just how little he actually knows about cooking. Thanks to Shiro‘s ability to put cornflakes on fire, he never even go the chance to learn much from his adoptive mom, since she was scared that Keith might be somehow burn the kitchen down, just like Shiro managed two times already.

He should have begged her for cooking lessons. Or general lessons for life. Keith doesn‘t only suck at cooking, but at cleaning, laundry and every other chore you could think of as well… The only reason he‘s still able to invite people into his room is that everyone else is just as filthy as he is, especially his close friends. 

Except Lance, for obvious reasons. Even though his room is a mess as well, it‘s still a lot tidier, and much less filthier than Keith‘s. It literally speaks for itself. 

He seems to have his life under better control than Keith will ever have. But instead of the arrow of jealousy that should dig through his heart when he realizes that, all he feels is amazement. 

Which makes him even more confused than all the cooking Lance is trying to teach him...

“Next,” Lance pipes up when the rice is on the stove and the broccoli in the microwave, “we‘ll prepare the wraps, and then I‘ll show you how to make the best avocado toast.”

Keith perks up. He never had that before, because— “Isn‘t that a hipster food?”

_ Oh, if only looks could kill. _ That‘s what Lance must be thinking right now while piercing Keith with his eyes. Keith can see how his brain is rattling, his face going from a frown to a grimace until he relaxes his whole body with an annoyed sigh.

“Even your emo-ass will like it,” he hisses, more like a threat than a promise. 

Keith swallows his response in order to keep on cooking. He doesn‘t know what to do with all those ingredients after all, and what Lance has planned for them sounds just too good. Even if they have a lot more work ahead of them.

Lunch can‘t come soon enough. 


	4. Chapter 4

Lunch break, Monday, one in the afternoon.

And Keith is in heaven. He can‘t believe how fucking good the food is. It‘s just broccoli with rice, some seasoning and a boiled egg for some protein and—

And it tastes like a meal from a five-star-restaurant. It‘s so good Keith has to swallow a couple of moans with every bite. So delicious he‘s sure that if he were to die, he wouldn‘t mind it being his last mean. 

Fucking broccoli with rice. And an egg.

How on earth is that possible? 

Keith should know that, shouldn‘t he? He helped prepare this dish after all. Helped with the rice and the broccoli and the egg. But in the end, he guesses, all comes down to the seasoning. The only part Keith missed, because he was in the middle of burning himself while trying to heat up some wraps. 

Right, the wraps! Gosh, he can‘t wait to get home and eat those for dinner. How will they taste? Like heaven on earth as well? Like a tear of joy licked from the plump cheek of an angel? Like the sweet relief of finishing your last final, exiting the classroom and heading straight to the nearest bar to drown your sorrow in appletinis? 

It will probably be as good as the avocado toast Lance made the night before— 

That shit was dope! Made Keith drop some of his emo-ness and take a big step into hipster-territory. Totally explained how some people would sell their first born for just one bite of some glorified fruit cream on warm bread. 

Another bite, another swallowed moan, another weird look he gets from his friends. They didn‘t say anything yet, just stared at him and the food he‘s trying to eat slowly, to savour it. They probably want a bite, try to taste how much of Keith‘s horrible cooking skills went into that dish, and how much Lance was able to safe.

But that‘s not happening. This lunch is all his, and even if Shiro‘s eyes are practically begging him, he won‘t budge. They‘d have to kill him to get a bite of this lunch. 

“So,” Pidge grins as she watches him, “it tastes good?”

Keith sends her another glare before taking another bite. It seems to be answer enough for her. 

“And Lance isn‘t dead yet,” she concluded from whatever thought she just spun. Her forehead wrinkles as she drifts off into her own little world. “So being distracted with a task seems to help. Good to know.”

Hunk chuckles besides her. “That sounds like you are writing a paper on them.” He regards her with a smile, probably expecting a teasing grin or something like that as a response, but doesn‘t get one. His face falls the longer she stays silent. 

“Pidge,” Hunk almost pleads, his voice holding the same fear Keith is feeling right now, “you are not writing a paper on them, are you?”

She looks at him with the most innocent smile she manages to come up with. Just add the puppy eyes and she‘d be a perfect copy of a certain brunett Keith knows. 

“I am studying engineering,” she says while blinking her eyes like her girlfriend Allura when she wants to steal some food from them. 

Keith can‘t to anything but frown. “That‘s not an answer,” he murmurs, staring at Pidge to see a change in her expression, which never comes. “Pidge, I swear—”

A tray gets slammed on the table right next to Keith, interrupting him from thinking of a good threat. James sits down with a grin, ogling Keith‘s lunch before smirking at him. 

“Oh? What‘s that Kogane?” He asks way to loud, as if he wanted everyone in the cafeteria to hear. “Who did you steal that from?”

A few people actually turn around to stare at them. The unwanted attention makes Keith raise his shoulders almost to his ears, and he sends a warning look towards James. “Shut up.” 

James‘ smirk only grows, but a nudge from Ryan, who sits down next to him, makes him actually keep quiet for a couple of minutes. Keith is almost hopeful that he will get to enjoy one lunch without that idiot wrecking his nerves, but he gets disabused.

As his friends distract themselves with the usual conversation about school or whatever else they are talking about that Keith is not listening to, James turns his attention back on him, his smirk slightly dimmed but still persistently shitty. “So?”

Keith doesn‘t know what his deal is today. James and him usually try to avoid each other as much as possible, so the talk James is trying to start is probably just away to annoy him. 

To not look like a total asshole though, Keith answers him honestly. “Lance is teaching me how to meal prep.”

“Poor him. You cook like you look.” 

It‘s coming. Keith knows that it‘s coming. The shitstorm, he means. 

Keith‘s frown starts to hurt with how bad it‘s getting. “What?”

“Like shit.”

Ah, there it is. 

Anger raises in his throat, and he prepares himself to jump from his seat and polish that shiteating grin off James‘ face. “Listen here you little-”

“Keith, James,” Adam hisses at him, his eyes pressed into slits as he gives them his best mom-stare, “I swear if you start a fight I‘ll join.”

James eyes widen and Keith‘s heart drops below his balls. Both of them know that a fight with Adam will only lead to death, misery and lots of tears— in this exact order. 

It‘s not worth it. Nothing is worth it.

They continue to eat in silence, purposely ignoring each other until Curtis arrives, and with him Adam‘s good mood. Bless him. 

“You know,” James murmurs over his food. Keith glances at him, but James is talking to Ryan instead. The stupid smirk on his face makes Keith stare at him though, waiting for whatever stupid shit James wants to spit out now. “You should ask Lance to teach you as well.”

Like expected, it‘s stupid.

Ryan raises an eyebrow, the only change in his stoic face. “Why?”

A glance gets send into Keith‘s direction, Jame‘s smirk gets even worse. Even stupider. “Just because.” James adds a shrug and gets back to his food, leaving Keith, and probably Ryan as well, totally confused. 

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last. Keith jsut gets back to his heavenly meal. 


	5. Chapter 5

Today‘s lesson was ‚pizza‘. Tons and tons of pizza for the whole group, plus homemade salted-caramel popcorn. Also tons of it. For the group. 

Because for whatever reason Lance and Keith gotta cook for todays movie night instead of just ordering from whatever place Shiro managed to get a coupon from. 

Eight pizza and a ton of popcorn later, they are all gathered in Pidges room to watch the latest trash movie they could find. It‘s tradition that every Thursday gets spend with the cheapest food they can find and the worst movie that came out recently. 

Pidges room is somehow twice the size of any other room on this campus, probably because she worships the right gods, or maybe because she hacked their college at the beginning of the semester to get the best room in this school… or both. 

Probably both. 

“So, Lance,” Shiro pipes up, a piece of pizza in each of his hands, uncaring that they others might want some as well. “How is teaching my brother going? Is it hell or worse than it?”

Keith should have expected that he‘d ask some shit like this. Like brothers are— correction: like trash bag brothers like Shiro are, he‘d never miss out on this opportunity.

Keith sighs quietly, waiting for the shitstorm to come, but—

“It‘s actually not so bad,” Lance answers, voice as honest as it can be with cheese-stuffed pizza crust in his mouth. “I mean, he‘s missing the most basic knowledge, but considering you are brothers—“ he stares at Shiro with disappointment, something he must have copied of Adam whenever the topic of Shiro‘s cooking skills comes up, „I should be glad that he hasn‘t burned down the kitchen yet.”

Lance takes another piece of his godforsaken pineapple pizza and shrugs. “And he picks stuff up easy, like in class.”

Keith scoffs and raises an eyebrow at him. “That almost sounds like a compliment.”

Lance‘s smile immediately vanishes to an expression that‘s the perfect mix of pissed off and ready to fight. “It is, you nutbag,” he hisses, not fooling anyone with that tone. His smile is already breaking through the frown again, his mood too good for Keith to scrape it with his little comment. 

Still… “Nutbag?” 

“Anyway,“ Lance takes another bite, „how‘s the pizza?” 

“It‘s good.” Pidge pats him on the shoulder. “And so freaking cheap. Why don‘t we do this more often?” Cheap? You‘d think she‘d have hacked a bank or two by now. Though… that‘s how rich people hide their money, don‘t they? By acting cheap...

“Because it would be a shame to not use our precious coupons,” Shiro explains, creating a group-cringe and drawing a collective sigh out of them. 

“Why do I love you?” Adam murmurs loud enough for everyone to hear, shaking his head in defeat and leaning against his other boyfriend, you know, the one that‘s not a total dickhead and a disaster in the kitchen. 

Shiro tries the same. “That‘s so mean,” he pouts, trying to wrap his hand around Curtis‘ arm and drag him to his side. If it wasn‘t for the pizza pieces he‘s still clutching on. “Babe, protect me!”

Curtis nods towards the movie no one is paying attention to and takes another bite of his pizza before answering. “I‘m busy.” 

Smart move. 

Shiro pouts into Curtis‘ shoulder, hurt by the quick dismissal of his boyfriend. And both him and Adam probably just wants some quietness, so he pats Shiro‘s white hair with the hand that he didn‘t use to eat and accepts his fate of being a pillow for the rest of the evening. 

The trio calms down and they get back to the movie. Hunk is surprisingly quiet in his corner, but with Shay on his lap and Matt to his side, he‘s probably too busy to care. Just like Pidge and Allura, or Lance and his pineapple pizza. 

As he watches the horrible movie on the TV, a bit of pizza sauce starts to run down his wrist. He catches it with his tongue, licks over the mounds of his hand and between his fingers until he‘s all clean again, his attention drawn back to the movie.

Keith‘s eyes stare at the floor and his cheeks heat up before he even realized what just happened and—

_ Ba-dum. _

Huh? 

What was that? 

All he did was watch how Lance licked some sauce from his fingers. Why is his heart acting up all of a sudden? 

Keith steals another glance, sees how Lance is looking at the screen again, his mouth drawn into a lazy smile as he munches on the last piece of his pizza and—

_ Ba-dum. _

No, wait that can‘t be-

That‘s just not true. Lance is his  _ friend _ ; his annoying, loud, incredibly patient, over the top caring, always ready to answer with a stupid quip  _ friend _ . 

And not—

_ Ba-dum. _

“Dude,” Pidge murmurs, nudging his arm with her bony elbow a couple of time, “you alright?”

Keith tears his off Lance‘s hand and glances at her. “What?” He feels like there is no air left in his lungs, and even less around him to breathe.

“You look weird,” Pidge exclaims, her raised eyebrow already hinting Keith that she knows more that she lets on in front of their friends. She leans a bit closer, glances at the rest of the group who are paying them no mind, and lowers her voice. “Your face is super red.”

“It‘s nothing.”

Because they are  _ friends _ . 

“Oh, really?” She sing-songs like a witch from a Disney movie. “Because it looks like you realized something.” Her grin is malicious. Truly evil. The devil in person wouldn‘t be able to keep up with her. 

And even worse, she looks so sure of herself that Keith starts to believe her as well. 

_ Friends _ .

And Keith—

Oh, heavens... Keith has a—

He has a—

Keith has a crush on his friend…


	6. Chapter 6

Keith had a night to sleep over his feelings. 

Or not. Because he didn‘t sleep. 

What he did was think, think and overthink about all the ways his life will fall apart now. Lance is one of the pillars in his friends group, if Keith likes to admit it or not. Lance makes sure that they meet up regularly, checks if everyone is doing fine whenever stressing times roll around, talks every member into accepting help when they need it, just— 

He‘s like a mom, but better, because he doesn‘t nag as much. 

Sure, he annoys Keith to an indescribable extent with whatever recent issue occurs, be it his hair or his meals or his clothes or the fact that Keith doesn‘t listen to as much  _ My Chemical Romance _ as Lance expects him to. 

But he‘s also always there when Keith needs help understanding those stupid social cues that his foster homes didn‘t teach him and that his adoptive parents never really caught up on because they are japanese immigrants. 

He also makes sure that Keith doesn‘t get left out whenever they do something together that Keith never done before, like studying in a group, going bar hopping with fake ID‘s or spending a day at the beach. 

You know, extraordinary stuff like this that no normal person would ever do.

So, Keith had a night to think about all the ways his life will fall apart now that he realizes that he has a crush on Lance. He doesn‘t know how to cope with that shit after all, nor what to do with it, or how to act, or what to say or—

“...right, Keith?”

He looks up from his food, some pasta dish Lance put together in a hurry so they wouldn‘t be late for their movie night, and stares at the group he‘s having lunch with. 

Most of them are still occupied by their own conversations, but Ryan, James and Lance all look at him with different expressions. Ryan his usual stoic face, Lance with a raised eyebrow that makes his eyes look a bit bigger and even more beautiful than usual... and James with his usual shit-eating grin that means no good.

“Uhm,” Keith flounders, “w-what?” 

Lance raises his second eyebrow, baby-blues now watching him carefully, “I said that it‘s no problem that Ryan cooks with us, right?” He tilts his head a little bit and a strand of his soft hair glides over his forehead. Only a soft breeze of a gentle, eastern wind would be able to make him even prettier right now. 

Keith shakes his head to force himself back into the present. “What?”

Lance chuckles at him. “Have you been listening at all?” He nods towards Ryan and James before getting to him, still looking like an angel in disguise. “We‘ve been talking about food for the past twenty minutes.”

“Oh.” 

Wait. 

_ Oh. _

James‘ shiteating grin forces a memory from last Monday into Keith‘s brain.

_ ‘You should ask Lance to teach you as well.‘ _

Why did James say that if not for—

“Kinkade will cook with us?” Keith asks quietly, trying to sound as innocent as a stupid boy who can hardly spell ‚innocent‘ could ever sound. 

“Yeah,” Lance nods, apparently buying Keith’s act and continuing as if this whole conversation was completely normal, “James said that he could use a few lessons as well.” 

_ James _ . 

That fucknut. 

He‘s so dead. 

“That‘s no problem, right?” Lance starts to look a bit worried, his eyes moving from Ryan to Keith and back. 

And Ryan—

Oh. 

Oh, no.

“Of course not,” Keith answers, another horrible attempt at sounding naive. How could he say ‚no‘ to Lance after all, specially after his smile erupts like a volcano, shining bright like the sun eating a few planets.

Keith‘s attention is set on another person though. Ryan and his poker face are as unreadable as always, a wall of stoicness that Keith usually can‘t figure out, but right now—

_ Oh, no. _

Keith might not be so good with social cues, or conversation, or interactions or whatever the stuff that happens between people is called, but there is one thing that he will always recognize, mainly because he‘d stared at it in his bathroom mirror a couple hours ago. 

The gaze of a man with a crush. 

Ryan‘s gaze. 

On Keith‘s crush!

_ Oh, hell no.  _


	7. Chapter 7

Describing Keith‘s mood as shitty would be the understatement of the year. 

It‘s Sunday. The shift yesterday was shitty and the shopping even shittier, since all Lance talked about was what Ryan would like to cook. Not what Keith would like, or what Lance would like to try; no. Just Ryan.

And don‘t even think of asking Keith how he slept. 

He thought about doing a double shift this morning to fill out the day until it‘s time to fall into his bed late at night, even though he hates it and doesn‘t need the money or the stress or the free lunch he would get from it. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of Lance, all alone—

With  _ Ryan _ . 

Ryan, who has been a constant shadow to Lance the moment they stepped into the kitchen. 

Ryan who obviously doesn‘t need any cooking lessons, since he knows what Lance is talking about whenever it gets chefy and adds a few hints or extras every now and then on his own.

Ryan who flirts with Lance whenever he opens his mouth, subtly so it sounds like normal small-talk, but Keith knows!

He knows!

“Sounds good,” is what leaves Ryan‘s lips when Lance talks about the dishes he planned out for the week, but Keith knows that Ryan means to say  _ ‚This is brilliant, Lance. You are truly amazing!‘ _

Keith just knows!

“It tastes great,” is what Ryan says when Lance lets him taste the potatoes he‘s been cooking, but what he really means is  _ ‚This is incredible, you are the best cook in the world!‘ _

Keith knows that! 

“You‘re pretty good at this,” is the last thing Ryan says before going back to his own dorm, but Keith knows— oh, he knows— that this is a proper proposal! The shit that starts with ‚marry‘ and ends with ‚me‘!

Keith. Just. Knows.

Probably…

He thinks...

Okay, maybe Ryan didn‘t mean all that, maybe he really just meant to be nice to someone who teaches him a few new things about cooking. Maybe he was just polite because James forced him to come, and maybe Keith is overreacting a little bit. 

But maybe he‘s right after all, and his sour mood is justified!

“Keith?” Lance‘s voice jerks him out of his thoughts and away from the abyss of sourness. Keith looks up, looks into Lance‘s concerned eyes and immediately feels guilty. “Are you okay?”

What the everlasting hell is he doing?

“Yeah, of course!” Keith huffs nervously. Lying is not his forté, since, you need to know what feelings are and how to control them to be good at that. Or, you know, to be a normal fucking person to act like a normal fucking person, but Keith is...

By now everyone should know that Keith is just a huge, gigantic, everlasting, gay mess. 

“Are you sure?” Lance asks, his adamance making Keith feel even worse.

Keith nods vehemently, trying to make his heart stop beating so loudly from the look Lance gives him. Under the cold light from the horrible LED bulbs the college insisted to install in all dorms and with a few spots of pasta sauce on his shirt he looks like he can steal Keith‘s heart all over again, and again, and again, and again, and—

“Well, okay then,” Lance murmurs, turning back to the dirty counter they have to clean before starting on the last dish they have to prep. 

Keith hasn‘t really paid much attention to the cooking while digging a few death stares into Ryan‘s back and trying not to cut his fingers off while mincing some garlic.

Hah! Mincing! He listened to the shit Lance said. 

Anyway, he didn‘t really participate in today‘s cooking as much as he should, since they are basically doing this for him, but the sixteen colorful boxes full of food are hard to ignore when they are stacked prettily at the right corner of the table. 

Which leaves Keith to wonder, “What are we doing again? I thought we finished everything...”

Could be snacks, like Lance always insists on making since he gets carvings worse than a hundred pregnant people combined. Could also be some stuff they put on their food when it‘s time to eat so this shit doesn‘t get soggy, like salad sauce or croutons (whatever the hell those are. To Keith it‘s just dry bread). 

From what Lance is taking out of the fridge though, some broth, thick noodles, spring onions, cilantro, and even some Chashu, Keith quickly realizes where this is going. 

“I‘m making dinner for us,” Lance grins. “I asked Shiro for your mom‘s recipe, so we‘re eating Ramen tonight!” His smile quickly turns sheepish and he scratches his cheek while biting his lip. “It‘s not as good as your mom‘s, but I really tried my best here.”

Oh, bless this man. 

And rest in peace, Keith‘s heart! He might as well straight up die now. 

Or maybe he did already and is watching all this happening from the special place in hell Pidge and him reserved for themselves.

“That sounds great,” he chokes out, unable to calm his raging heart. He can‘t even remember how his heart acted before he know of his crush on Lance, but he doesn‘t really care either. 

All he cares about is that smile; and the Ramen he‘ll get in a couple of minutes. 


	8. Chapter 8

The days pass almost too quickly with everything Keith has on his mind. Time flows like a someone just cleaned the pipes of their bathroom and is too satisfied with the outcome, filling and draining the sink and tub over and over again.

Keith moves from one class to another, eats lunch with his friends, dinner sometimes as well, does his homework, works on projects, studies for a test and fails to calm his stupid heart whenever Lance is around. 

Which, Keith realizes a bit too late, is almost always. They don‘t share a class, but several buildings, hallways, favorite coffee shops, work, and obviously their whole friend group, excluding James. 

Keith doesn‘t like James.

James is not his friend. 

Stupid James.

Keith doesn‘t want to avoid Lance, don‘t get him wrong. He loves spending time with him, loves hearing how his last class was and what the newest gossip is and what he wants to snack on after school. 

What Keith doesn‘t love is how he feels like a slimy blob filled with knowledge about everything useless, like physics or chemistry, but not about how to talk to your fucking crush. 

Because that‘s what he practically is. Minus the slimy-part, because he showers regularly, thank you very much. But the rest, being a stupid blob and everything, that is sadly too true. 

Even worse than his lack of knowledge is his jealousy. Because whenever their friends meetup, Ryan is there as well. At lunch, in coffee shops, in the library— just fucking everywhere. 

And of course he always talks to Lance. How could he fucking not? They share a mutual interest in cooking, and since Ryan‘s mom is from Jamaica, a huge love for their traditional foods as well, which they can talk about non-stop.

Non-fucking-stop.

Keith wouldn‘t mind listening to if they would actually cook all that stuff they talk about, because everything sounds freaking delicious, and Keith got a stomach of the size of a black hole. 

Oh, and it would be great if Ryan wouldn‘t look at Lance like  _ that _ while they talk, but that‘s a different topic. Keith already knows that after all.

Which makes him jealous. He knows that as well. 

But knowing about your own jealousy and not being an ass because of it are two different things. 

_ Keith, please don‘t do anything stupid _ , you might think now.

Well, today is not the day Keith disappoints you. 

Today is the day he simple broods. It’s Thursday as well, another meal prep lesson, another movie night, and another evening spend trying to kill Ryan with his stare. 

It doesn‘t work. Obviously. 

Keith‘s short answers and remarks don‘t work either to any question Lance is asking him. If anything, he‘s getting ignored, so all he can do is shut up and try to at least get something out of today's lesson. His brain won‘t concentrate on whatever is sizzling away in his frying pan though, only on the way Lance snorts at one of Ryan‘s jokes, or how his face lights up when Ryan compliments him.

Keith can‘t even indulge in those moments, because it‘s Ryan who makes Lance happy, it‘s Ryan who Lance focuses on, it‘s Ryan, Ryan, Ryan…

But in the end, it‘s Keith. 

His own inability to control his own feelings. His own blindness towards anything else but his rotting jealousy. His own incompetence, his own failure, his own rage, his own—

Just himself!

He doesn‘t want to be like that. He doesn‘t want to feel like that either, so unable to do anything but hurt. Because he knows that‘s all he‘s doing right now; hurt himself, hurt Lance, hurt their relationship. 

And all because someone else likes Lance as well!

It‘s so immature. It‘s frustrating. It‘s embarrassing.

“Dude,” Lance touches his shoulder and turns him around, “is something wrong?” He looks concerned, gone his bright smile and happy expression. 

All thanks to Keith.

“Nothing,” Keith murmurs, not able to lift his voice into a tone that doesn‘t ring any alarm bells.

“But—”

“Nothing‘s wrong!” He interrupts quickly. Lance doesn‘t look like he believes him, but he doesn‘t speak up anymore either. Keith feels horrible the instant his mood gets the best of him again, against Lance of all people. “Sorry,” he sighs, “I just don‘t feel so well.”

As if this would be any excuse for his behaviour.

“I‘m just gonna,” he points towards the pan, “finish this.” It‘s the least he can do before he runs away to hide in his room. Screw the movie night, he just feels like dying today. 

Ryan shares a look with Lace before he speaks up. “You sure?” Having Ryan ask him that really explains how shitty Keith must be acting right now. 

“Yeah,” he nods, more to himself than towards the other two. He trains his eyes on the frying pan, trying not to burn the food so he can get out of here faster. “I‘m sure.”

Is he though?

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Keith thought he would be able to keep his feelings hidden from the group, since there is no worse torture than having all of them know about his disastrous lovelife, but Pidge has other plans. 

Of course, she does. 

Even though Keith figured that she‘s not really interested in the lovelife of anyone else but her girlfriend, he should have known that she would get noisy as soon as it‘s about him or Lance. 

Especially since it‘s about him  _ and _ Lance. 

He gets ambushed right after his first class on Monday. One moment he‘s walking to his next class, the second he gets pulled into an empty hallway by Hunk. 

Pidge is all up his space before he can even gather himself, stabbing him into his chest with her pointy index finger and her mean stare. “You‘re acting super weird lately.”

As if she didn‘t know why.

Hunk is placing his hands on his hips behind her, giving Keith a disapproving dad-look. “Did you and Lance fight again?” 

So  _ he _ doesn‘t know yet. That‘s something.

“No,” Keith answers honestly. It‘s the truth after all, they didn‘t fight. 

They don‘t believe him though. Pidge sends a look over her shoulder, sharing a nod with Hunk before getting back to cornering Ketih. “What did you do?”

“I didn‘t do anything,” Keith huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. This is getting ridiculous.

“Well, you‘re acting weird but Lance isn‘t, so you must have done something stupid,” Hunk explains, “and Lance doesn‘t know yet.”

“I didn‘t—” Keith stops himself when he realizes it‘s no use. Pidge and Hunk look certain that it‘s his fault… and they are right. But he‘s not ready to admit that to them. “Why do you think it‘s about Lance in the first place?”

Pidge scoffs. “Why shouldn‘t we think it‘s about Lance?”

Hunk‘s eyes dart from Pidge to Keith. “Wait—” He looks at her for a good moment before getting back to Keith. “Both of you are not making any sense.”

A grin appears on Pidge‘s face, the sign that Keith is truly fucked now. “Should I tell them, or will you do it?”

“That‘s  _ not _ your place to—”

“Should I tell them,” she repeats calmy, “or will you do it?”

Well, if she phrases it like that…

“Fine!” Keith looks around himself. Even if the hallway is empty, he‘s not comfortable spilling his secret in the open like that. He grabs Hunk and Pidge‘s hands and drags them into the nearest, empty classroom. “Fine...” 

Keith takes a deep breath. This isn‘t easy. He never said it out loud, not even when he was alone, staring at his stupid reflection in his stupid mirror in his stupid dorm. Not even then he admitted his stupid feelings to himself, and now he‘s supposed to just spill it like that. 

He feels like he needs a moment or two to prepare himself, but Pidge bumps her fist into his shoulder hard enough for him to snap. “I like Lance.”

Pidge doesn‘t even feign any surprise, but Hunk—

Oh, poor Hunk. 

“You like Lance,” he repeats calmly, voice steady even though his face is saying something completely different. His eyes are wide, mouth gaping like a fish, and Keith is sure he stopped breathing all together. “Oh, okay, let me just—”

Hunk nods and nods and nods while turning around and walking back into the hallway. He closes the door behind him with a loud back and— “ _ Holy! Shit! _ ” 

Yep. Keith is sure the whole school heard that. 

Great. 

“Okay,” Hunk huffs as he gets back inside the classroom, “okay, so you like Lance.”

“You are very subtle,” Keith comments, hoping that no one will come into this classroom to investigate Hunk‘s scream. He needs to get this over with as quick as possible, Keith realizes. “I like Lance, and Ryan likes him as well, and that makes me very jealous, and i don‘t know how to deal with that, and I think I‘m about to fuck up really bad.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—” Hunk presses his hands against head, trying to tame the next freakout. “Ryan likes Lance too?” 

“Wait,” Pidge raises an eyebrow. “I don‘t think tha—”

They jump as the door behind them opens, and a very confused professor enters. “Are you here for the next class?”

“Nope,” Pidge answers quickly, checking the time on her phone and cursing quietly. 

“Sorry, sir.” Hunk grabs Pidge‘s and Keith‘s shoulder and pushes them towards the hallway. “We‘ll leave immediately.”

They close the door behind them before someone else can enter. The hall is pretty crowded now, a couple of students sitting on the floor, waiting around until the professor lets them in. 

Pidge lets out a long sigh. “I gotta run, my physics class is on the other side of the campus.” She places a hand on her hips and steps close to puncture Keith‘s cheats again. She‘s going to leave some marks if she keeps that up. “Don‘t fuck this up!”

With that she turns around and just leaves them standing there. 

“Thanks, Pidge,” Keith scoffs, making sure he‘s loud enough so she hears him. “That’s  _ really _ helpful.”

Or not!

“Dude, just—” Hunk stops himself too quickly and ends up shrugging helplessly. “You know, just try to be yourself. I‘m sure things will work out.” He looks so sure of himself, as if this wasn‘t exactly what brought Keith into this situation in the first place. 

“Thanks, Hunk,” Keith sighs, before waving goodbye and walking to his next class.

That’s really helpful…

Or not...

**Author's Note:**

> How could I not write a NSFW epilogue when I finish this story?


End file.
